


Mornings.

by 00Q



Series: The Avengers - A diary. [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 21:30:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1564733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00Q/pseuds/00Q
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers start a breakfast club. And Tony missed the invite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mornings.

**Author's Note:**

> The Dark Kingdom and Winter Soldier are irrelevant. Marvels Agents of SHIELD series included, though. Also: A mix of Iron Man 3 and the Extremis story known from the comics. Because I like it that way.

 

“JARVIS, play a test run on this again.”

While 'Born to be Wild' droned out of his speakers and his AI run through yet another simulation, he noticed the words blurring together before his eyes. Rubbing at them didn't seem to do the trick. When he looked into his coffee mug there seemed to be the next disappointment waiting for him. He placed the empty mug on the table again. When a little explosion could be heard and the monitor showed yet another destroyed experiment, he sighed and ruffled his hair in frustration.

“The indicator of the explosion seemed to be the concentration of palladium again, sir.”

“Yes, JARVIS! I know! I KNOW, damn it. But if I use less palladium, then there will be no mago-kinetic effect and if I use more then everything goes bang!” The genius tried to rub the tiredness out of his face and blinked at his monitors again.

“This is shit.” he exclaimed, picked up the three dimensional model of the energy generator that should have been an innovative new motor for a car driving without gasoline. He scrunched it up with a gesture and threw the data away through a 3D model of a basketball hoop.

He had promised Pepper something new. While the Stark-Pad with his integrated multi gesture 3D technology had been a nice idea and a big bang on the market, it was not Tonys idea of a big leap for humanity. The Clean Energy project was only slow going, because it involved a lot of paper work, advertising and still needed to be approved of by a lot of politicians, economics and other people that believed to be experts on arc reactors. Because there were so many of them. Idiots. Also the whole energy lobby was in an uproar and sued them left and right.

Tony wanted to show Pepper that his industry was still worthy of the name _Stark._ He wanted to contribute, to show the lovely Pepper Potts that while she was CEO, he still had an interest in his own company. He had hurt her enough as it is.

Peppers face haunted him in his sleep sometimes.

Tony was happy enough that they fluently went back to friendship status after everything went to shit. But the proud smile she gave him, when he showed her the blueprints for redesigning the tower still gave him a bittersweet feeling in his chest. He also received it some days later when he was punctual to a press conference and didn't do anything foolish. Or when he actually showed up on a company meeting. He wouldn't disappoint her again. He would make her smile.

And when working was the thing, that would bring a smile to her face, then he would work.

He didn't mind.

Because work and the Iron Man was all he had left.

And the Iron Man opened a bag full with other problems, he didn't want to think about. He didn't have the arc reactor now, so he needed to redesign the whole thing. And hopefully he could integrate Extremis in a way that was useful and not just nauseingly overwhelming. He had so much work to do. 

But, well. Standing around just thinking about his to-do list didn't get the job done. 

“Let's try again.”, he murmured. “Why is a car so different from my armor anyway? And what is it with Starks and cars that don't do, what they are supposed to do?”, the genius complained disgruntled. “I make cars fly! I made a fucking Corvette fly, that didn't even have a navigation system or air bags to begin with! It should be easy to make it drive without gas, too! Why does it work with the armor but with a damn car?”

“There never was an Otto-Motor in the Iron Man, sir.” answered JARVIS.

“Then let's invent a new motor. One that works on a more efficient source. And doesn't use up any resources hard to come by.”

“Isn't that what we try to do since two weeks, Sir?” replied his cheeky AI, while Tony picked up the mug next to him to take a sip from his coffee.

The mug was empty.

“Mh.” Hadn't he noticed that before?

While he seemed to have come to a standstill, he could do something against his lack of coffee at least.

Voices came to his ears when he neared his beloved coffee machine. His sleep deprived mind needed 3.6 seconds to remember that other people lived here now, too and that it was late – or early enough to have breakfast.

The tired black haired genius shuffled into the kitchen area and blinked. Then blinked again.

There right in his kitchen sat Bruce, a newspaper spread wide open on the table, that was covered with all kinds of foods, that made a big breakfast enjoyable. He was totally absorbed in his paper while he sipped on his tea from time to time. Right beside him sat Natasha, still in her pyjamas, cutting up some fruit while watching over the scientists shoulder to read an article. At the stove stood Captain Steve Rogers in his khakis and far too small shirt,  - the only things it seemed his ward robe existed of- and spread batter evenly in a pan. It smelled like fresh made coffee, scrambled eggs, toasted bagles and pan cakes. Tony had never seen his kitchen so alive and lived in. He didn't even know that there was actual edible food in his fridge. It all felt ... homey.

“I certainly need more coffee.”, he muttered to himself, then sat next to Natasha and Bruce at the kitchen table.

“Do you see Captain America making pan cakes, too?”, he stage whispered.

“Yes.” Bruce didn't even look up from his newspaper, but a small smile graced his lips at the antics of his fellow science bro.

“Huh.”

Watching Steve Rogers making breakfast like a house wife was unreal. For Tony he was the very picture of a man: his broad shoulders and muscled body seemed to sweat out pure testosterone all the time. And while he certainly was a gentleman through and through, Tony always believed Steve to be old fashioned with the role of women in society, too. And again his believes about Steve had to be rearranged in his brain.

In the month of the Avengers living in the Tower, Tony couldn't help but change his perception of the people surrounding him now. While Barton first seemed to be shy, cold and timid, he turned out to be quite the prankster. Natasha was still deadly, but became a total woman when it came to shoes or cute and fluffy things. Just Thor turned out to be the guy he imagined him to be. While the first week was kind of awkward and everyone was tipping around on their toes, they slowly seemed to ease into a living arrangement that didn't involve silence or forced conversation. Not that he was around them much, the way he mostly lived in his workshop.

“What is that delicious smell?”, boomed a loud voice, which made Tony, Bruce and even Steve flinch. Thor entered the kitchen with his buzzing energy, just in a pair of boxer shorts - someone told him about that rule with the pants, it seemed.

Another man oozing sex appeal and testosterone, Tony thought. He would be envious by now, if the billionaire wouldn't have known that he was awesome on all fronts.

His cup was filled with coffee and he gave Natasha a grateful look which she returned with the smallest of smiles.

He sipped, content with the moment and not thinking about his dead end in the garage right now.

“Boy group of the 90s”, Bruce asked out of the blue.

“That's like asking about maladies in the Dark Ages. There were far too much of them to be healthy for mental stability.”

“I liked N'Sync”, answered Barton, falling down from... somewhere and startling Tony near heart failure.

“Off the table, Clint. Breakfast is ready,” proclaimed Steve, while Bruce filled boxes in his cross word puzzle of the Times.

Steve placed a plate with pen cakes in front of Tony as if it were a totally normal procedure that Captain America served him breakfast.

Tony could only stare at his massive serving of blue berry pan cakes showered in syrup, just to look back up at Steve in disbelief.

He was actually sitting in his kitchen, surrounded by people he felt save with and started to regard as friends, being served pan cakes and coffee. Tony never would have thought that he would have a scene as domestic as this in his life. Even when his parents were alive, they never really sat down in the kitchen together, laughing and joking, while enjoying a meal. And now a scene like this somehow seemed to happen in his very own kitchen. And well: hello, Captain America was making him pan cakes. Howard probably had a major heart attack in his grave.

Steve frowned at his silence. “You don't like pan cakes?”

Tony blinked. “I do. Very much.”

Steve gave him a tentative smile and refilled his coffee mug again.

Tony just slightly shook his head. “How are you even real?” he murmured to himself.

“And to what do I owe the refillings of my mug and the pan cakes, anyway? I feel like a king being served by his minions, which did something bad and try to redeem themselves.”

Clint snorted. "Oh please, Stark, just because we are friendly, doesn't mean we did something bad. Like... destroying the equipment in the training room again or somehow reprogramming the home entertainment system into korean. Which I had nothing to do with. At all. We just eat together when it fits. We were running into each other in the kitchen anyway,” the archer elaborated.

"Also: Clint smells, when someone is cooking", Natasha added. "He is like a truffle pig."

"So is Thor", Clint noted offended.

“Huh.” Tony had not even noticed the Avenging Breakfast Club forming in the Tower. He was a tiny bit sad that he seemed to miss out on moments like this most of the time.

He squashed that thought as rapidly as it came.

“German white wine”, read the scientist aloud, the tip of his pen floating just inches over the paper.

Tony suggested “Riesling” absendmindedly, and started to look for cutlery on the overloaded table to digg into the unexpected heavenly breakfast.

“Sir, you wanted to be remembered about your board meeting with the delegation of Tokyo in an hour. Miss Potts insisted that you be present.” Tony couldn't help the small smile when Thor and Steve both still looked up at the ceiling to determinate, where the voice came from.

“Thank you, JARVIS. Anything else today?”

“17 Emails that need immediate attention. Lunch at 13 o'clock with Senator Murphy. Also: S.H.I.E.L.D made an appointment to discuss the new security measures of their holding cells.” “Tell them to kiss my ass first.” “Certainly, Sir.”

Draining his mug from the last precious drop of coffee he stood and went for the door. “Have to dash, then. See you guys.”

Thor looked at the perfectly untouched plate of the delicious dish made out of batter that transformed itself to a breakfast made for warriors with a sweet tooth. He reacted quick.

“I shall bear the burden of replacing the Man of Iron in his seat on this feasting table.” Nobody said a word, while the god of thunder changed seats and shoved the rest of his own pan cakes on top of Tonys untouched plate. Nobody said a word, but small smiles still escaped the Midgardians.

“The Man of Iron is without a doubt a person of high value. Not only is he a mighty warrior and blacksmith but also an accomplished merchant.”

“Yeah, well, otherwise he couldn't keep up his lifestyle and narcissism”, retorted Clint.

“In Asgard not our words are relevant, but the deeds we do. And the Man of Iron certainly did show his worth. It is sign enough that people of the Shield acknowledge his wisdom by caressing his behind in such an intimate way.”

Steve couldn't help spraying orange juice over the table.

Bruce Banner looked down at his New York Times puzzle drenched in juice with sorrow.

“I was nearly done with that.”

 


End file.
